


change your mind

by jewelsofnight



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22054987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jewelsofnight/pseuds/jewelsofnight
Summary: “Fate,” Renee smiled. “I am a believer.”-In an alternate universe, Allison and Renee's lives dovetail in an unexpected encounter on a random highway in Illinois.
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	change your mind

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any mistakes! this is not beta read. goodbye to 2019!
> 
> edit: nothing here is edited, I wrote it in a few minutes on my phone just to float a concept. I'll probably edit it eventually into something more presentable, I hope this doesn't read as too disjointed.

The night air tugged and lifted the long blonde locks of hair swaying along Allison's back. Everything stuck out in garish shapes and colours in the sickening cast of the overhead lights, washed out and desaturated. Hideous as it was lonely, with just two disinterested staff members and Allison, it looked like it had been abandoned on some corner of the state that nobody bothered to check. With the expanses of fields around here, Allison didn't doubt it. She had never felt more alone or left behind than in this dingy old gas station at this strange hour in the night, when everyone normally slept to avoid all these creepy feelings. She slammed the fuel door latch closed, breath clouding with her sigh.

Thumbing through some notes in her wallet, she blew out another defeated, exhausted breath. She was walking back to her car when she heard a distinctly human yelp from the darkness. Allison froze, the hair on her neck rising. No sound followed, but she didn't trust it for a second -- she damn near ran back to her car. There had been a few creeps here and there on her road trip, nothing she couldn’t handle with a quick doling of defensive violence, but out here the risk ran too great. There were kidnappers, serial killers, and rapists out there, and two people who were basically asleep were her only witnesses.

Just as the engine purred to life, another incoherent yell rang out from the darkness, this time a little less muffled. And that was when someone stumbled into the lights, bent over like a bloodied baby deer or a horror movie star in the headlights. A young woman, unlike any other Allison had seen. She lifted her head, gaze snagging on Allison sitting statue-still in the driver's seat. Her face was downturned with panic or impatience, but not fear; the suddenly assessing gaze transformed her from a baby deer into a hunter. Realistically, it only took a few seconds, only as long as it took for Allison to place her hand on the gearstick. It felt like forever though, as the girl glanced behind herself once, and then made for the car. Before Allison could lock the doors, the girl had it wrenched open and a gun in Allison's face.

“Drive!” she yelled, getting in.

Allison blinked owlishly. Her mind had left her body, it felt. The girl slammed her hand on the dashboard, the sound coming muffled, then picked up Allison’s hand and placed it on the gear shift herself. Her grip was soft but firm. 

“Drive, come on, or we’ll both be dead. Go!” she pleaded.

Allison nodded somehow, certainly possessed by something because she was pretty sure her soul had ascended. Her hands shook and her head was empty. She could feel the stiffness of her neck, but there was nothing she could do to relax, so she kept her face forward and hoped the adrenaline would wear off soon. Then, maybe she could throw this horror-movie creep from her car without getting shot. Even grasping for a plan, Allison foresaw her death that night – going out on the taste of gunmetal, maybe a car crash from how reckless she was currently driving, hopefully both in quick succession. She had no idea if she could be pissed off if her soul had ascended, but she was pre-pissed off at the papers; they were so going to make a big deal of it, something mawkish and undignified in how obsessive it was, like they had actually valued her life. Her ghost-self would definitely have an aneurysm if her parents turned up for her funeral.

20 minutes – that’s how long it took, according to the clock on the dashboard, for the girl to drop the gun. Allison felt like seconds had gone by, all her senses filled with a meaningless buzz. She eyed the gun. There was no way she could handle it, but she might be able to throw it out of the window if she was quick enough. Hoping it wouldn’t result in her death, she pulled her window down and fanned herself with her hand, pretending to feel hot.

“So – Jesus Christ – can I at least have your name?”

“Shields.”

“Shields? Is that a surname?”

The girl raised one thin shoulder, saying nothing. She looked tired now, or maybe the faraway look in her eyes was something else.

“Do I need to bring you to a hospital?”

Shields tensed. “No,” she said, voice surprisingly gentle now that she wasn’t yelling. Allison wasn't sure yet if that was creepy, or reassuring.

“I’m pretty sure you’re in shock, and you’re bleeding out. You can't refuse care right now.”

“I’m bleeding?” she muttered, looking down at herself. She looked at the blood on her side, but gave no further reaction. “I have no insurance,” she said simply, punctuating it with another shrug.

“I’ve got some cash.” Allison gave her a once over. “And you look like you need it.”

Shields huffed. “I’m not hurting for money either,” she said, rolling her shoulder. “They’ll find me though. They always do.”

None of this information reassured Allison that she was hosting a victim, or someone who wouldn’t murder her. Allison glanced at the gun in her lap again now that the woman was occupied with her own wounds. Her mouth was slow to form the words. 

“Who are they?”

Shields sighed. “Even if I didn’t kill you after telling you, they probably would.”

Allison shivered. That was it. She’d given this cryptic person way too much space, and she couldn’t risk wasting any more time. She relaxed her hand from where it was on the transmission, unlocking all her muscles so she could get this over with.

“Sounds ominous,” she said blankly, then snatched the gun. 

Before she could even get it across her own body, pointing it forward, the woman had her hands on Allison’s forearm and the gun, pressing hard. Allison gasped in surprise more than pain – being an athlete, she was by no means slow to move. This woman, this possible criminal, had lightning-quick reflexes, faster than anyone Allison knew.

“Fuck! Don’t fucking kill me!” Allison yelled, accidentally slamming the accelerator down.

“Oh for - I am not a killer! I won’t kill you unless you pull more stupid stunts like that!” Shields yelled back. “What were you thinking? You would’ve shot the windscreen off!”

“I was going to throw that stupid thing out the window so you couldn’t kill me with it, that’s what I was thinking! You’re the one who hijacked my car and came in here with a gun of all things, I –” Allison’s voice cracked “– I can’t risk my life for you.” She cringed at the fear she had let bleed through her words.

There was a deadened silence as no response came from Shields. The only sound was that of the indicator as Allison moved to another lane. They passed by a car with several kids in it and a tired mother up in the front. It was comically normal. Allison felt like throwing up.

“I’m not going to shoot you or take your money,” Shields said calmly.

Maybe Allison was fucked in the head, or maybe she was right, but people were probably only that calm when they were lying. Right?

Shields continued as though her words weren't just going in one ear and out the other. “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I am so sorry for bringing you into this. You were my only hope. May I have your name?”

“Allison.”

“Pretty name.”

“Don’t flirt with me right now,” Allison said, hoping Shields wouldn’t kill her for her lack of brain-to-mouth filter.

She put her hands up - they were deceptively delicate. “Allison, I’m seriously sorry. I do have money to compensate you for this, if you can get me to Memphis. Or even to a bus that can get me there.”

It wasn’t where Allison was heading, so she’d have to drop her off somewhere else on the way. If she considered this offer, which she totally was - anything to not die tragically like a loser in the middle of nowhere. When she told Shields her plan, she received a serene nod and a request for a first aid kit. Allison popped open the compartment in front of the passenger seat. Shields sighed at the dismal set and asked for alcohol for the needle after she applied some basic antibacterial spray onto it. They didn’t have any, so she just wrapped the wound up really tight and waited with her eyes closed till they got to the nearest drugstore or convenience store.

Allison hesitated, then spoke. “If you have people after you, why don’t you go to the police? You’ve done something too, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve done a lot of things,” she sighed, opening her eyes. “I don’t trust cops. I could maybe – well, I have a mother back home who’s really good. She adopted me and I was happy, but then they came again and I got scared and left. I don’t know if I can go back. She would help me though.”

“So what’s your story, then? If you don’t trust cops, you could at least tell a stranger. It’s not like I could tell anyone anything meaningful. Just don’t tell me anything incriminating,” she joked, glancing warily at the woman again. She just smiled and fingered a cross necklace that Allison hadn’t noticed earlier. It was a delicate, white thing, contrasting with the warm, yellow colour of Shields’ skin. It looked like a habit, the way she moved her fingers over it.

“Nothing special. Shitty mother, no father, no money, bad education. Gangs were all I had, back in Detroit.” She shivered. “That was a long time ago, though. It got really bloody up there – I was half-dead when the police took me into custody. I got a deal, seeing as I was so young and ‘misguided’. It was hard, but Stephanie – that’s my mom – she made it better. Going to church made it better. I was trying so hard but…”

“But they found you again?”

“Yes. They threatened mom, so I left. I didn’t do enough to hide my tracks, or maybe they had gotten smarter. Better tech now, even those knuckleheads can figure it out. Since then I’ve done another few things that could put me back behind bars, things I promised not to do again – I don’t know if they’ll sympathise with me this time. I don’t know if they even should, so I’m still running,” she said, rubbing her shoulder.

Allison shifted in her seat. She was no fool – this lady was dangerous, and anyone could lie. The story was so vague it would be impossible to pick out any gaps. Trusting a stranger like this could cost a life. But there was something in her tone that sounded like she hadn’t meant to say all that. It was hungry, lonely, a flowing wound. Despite herself, her heart panged for this woman. Curse that ridiculously soft thing; it was so easy to strike a chord in it, so easy to reach in and ask for enough love to get your hands full.

She measured her words, still trying to piece the story together, find a hole in it. It would be so much easier to throw this stranger out then. “Can they track those crimes back to you, the police? You’re pretty far from Detroit right now.”

“I don’t live in Detroit anymore. Stephanie lives in South Carolina. I’d own up to everything in a heartbeat, but I don’t even know if she wants me back. I might have done too much to be worth forgiving.”

“Why’d she take you in the first time? What did she say?”

Shields looked uncomfortable. “She talked about second, third, fourth chances. She took me in because she said she saw how strong I was, and how much I wanted more for myself, even though I was too scared to admit it. Talking to the police wasn’t easy, and I was so much less… well-adjusted back then. She’s a journalist – a great one too. I guess my story wasn’t that surprising for her. She’s talked to worse people.”

“If you could confess to everything back then before you even had her, before you had anyone at all, why not now? You still don’t have her, even if you don’t go to the police. What if you do something worse? What if you die all alone and unknown?”

Shields was silent.

“Come on,” Allison pushed. “That’s bullshit. And look at your cross – isn't it a worse sin to lie? To keep running and hiding and hijacking cars?”

Her hand tightened around the necklace.

“I’ve never been so conflicted,” she said, voice low. “I actually hate this – the running, hiding, hurting, stealing. It’s just – I don’t want her to see me like this.”

“I’m sure she’s amazing, but you’re not banished from salvation if she doesn’t like you anymore,” Allison said, cutting through everything. “Right? Come on, you know it in there. I thought Jesus gave everyone a chance.”

More tense silence.

Allison looked at her. “You seem like you've got a good head on you – just tell yourself you’ll do the right thing.”

Shields snapped her head towards her, eyes ablaze and mouth ready to fire off, but Allison beat her to it, pointing ahead.

“McDonald’s. Come on. You need to brush that dirt off you, get something to eat, and then we’re going to the hospital. Memphis is cancelled,” she said, shushing Shields when she protested. They were stopping for her, but also so Allison could have more witnesses if it went south. She shushed the woman every time she tried to speak, resulting in a few under-the-breath curses followed immediately by prayers. 

“How are your wounds?”

“It’s just one – down my shoulder to my chest. It’s not deep, as far as I see. They didn’t get close enough to really hit me this time. Hurts a crap-ton.”

“Great,” Allison grinned, totally glib. “Possible risk of infection, but at least you’re not slowly bleeding to death in my car. I would have to bring you back and kill you just for that.” 

She turned the car into the parking lot. Though there were no regular cars there, the sight of the large trucks and their owners lounging around inside settled something in her. Her breaths came more easily at the sight of these people and the lightening sky. From the edge of the horizon came a soft, white light, dawn peeking out under the cover of night. She had stayed up the whole night and wasn’t even tired, but her body felt untethered and a crash was not far off.

Out in the cool, blue, wet air, she popped the boot open and pulled a jean jacket out. She was already wearing her favourite, so she had no qualms about giving this one over. A small, bronze coloured bag was squished in the corner of the boot, and she brought that too. It had cosmetics, wipes, face wash, and some basic medicine, but it was little more than an emergency stash. Most of her makeup and other beauty products were contained in a huge, sturdy bag inside her suitcase.

She found Shields sitting on the hood, looking cold in a yellow knee-length dress. Allison draped her jean jacket over the woman’s shoulders as she walked by, surprising her.

“Come on,” she said, shaking the bag at her.

Inside was warm and smelled like delicious, greasy food. Allison wanted to sit down immediately, but she squashed those urges with the promise of getting herself all the crap food she could eat in one sitting if she made it out of this alive. She steered Shields into the bathroom first, and got her looking less like almost-roadkill and more like the tired college-age woman she probably was.

“How old are you?” Allison asked out of curiosity, tapping a blush brush out.

“21.”

“Did you go to college? Have a job before you ran away?”

“I was in college, yes,” Sheilds said. Her voice sounded dull, almost sad now. She braided the front pieces of her short, dark hair, before pinning them back. It revealed a surprisingly soft and innocent face. Round monolid eyes, pouty lips now softened with rosy lip balm, and full cheeks.

“I was taking a year off just before this all started. I might even be able to go back, if I ever get out of this. I used to work with my mom at her company too, coordinating with charities and companies.”

Allison handed her a blue perfume bottle. “I’m in college too, in South Carolina. It’s spring break though.”

“Right, that’s why you’re out here,” Shields murmured to herself. “Where were you going?”

“Before you almost turned me into the murder of the week? Back to South Carolina, just took a detour from Chicago. I was starting to think it had been a mistake to do that, and I'm still on the fence about that," Allison pouted, swinging her feet from the counter. "Where are you going after this?”

Shields smiled slyly. “South Carolina.” She burst out laughing at Allison’s expression, and it sounded totally different to the controlled, polite tone she had been using. So young and plummy. For a second, Allison wanted to peel back the layers, hold the pieces up to the light and study them - it's not like she could ever resist digging. “I’m right there too, that's where I went to college. Palmetto.”

Allison was befuddled. “Wait, Palmetto? Are you fucking with me?”

Shields didn’t look like she was joking, or like she was a lying psychic. There was a distant thought that she was a great actress and had stalked Allison, but a face came to Allison’s memory unbidden – a female student had gone missing last summer, and posters of her face were all over campus. Mid-length white hair with rainbow-coloured tips, Renee Walker. Round, monolid eyes and a small, pouty mouth.

“Did you lie about your name?”

Shields expression barely budged, always calm, but Allison didn’t miss the slow blink in the mirror. She hadn't seen any knives around, but who knew, this woman could probably strangle her here in a random McDonald's bathroom. Shields swiped the lipstick over her lips twice, then pressed them together slowly before turning to face Allison. Her expression was carefully blank, at a distance again but less dead. Allison wondered if she had reminded her of everything she had missed.

“Sharp,” she said, tone admiring in a way that surprised Allison. “How did you figure it out?”

“They’ve made a big fuss about finding you. You’re officially a missing person in South Carolina. The university had your face plastered to every notice board – precious church girl gone missing. Please help us find our beloved Renee Walker.”

She nodded, nimble fingers playing with the cap of the lip balm. “I have no reason to lie to you now. Yes, that’s me. Natalie Renee Walker, formerly Natalie Shields.”

Allison pursed her lips. The idea that all of this had been a coincidence was hurting her head. That an ex-gangster-turned-good-girl college student had shown up at the same, empty gas station somewhere in Illinois at night. That she was from where Allison was from. Even seconds too early or late would’ve separated them. The thought was head-spinningly wild, and from the pout on Renee's face, the hand hanging midair, Allison guessed she wasn't alone in the realisation.

“The coincidence…” Allison trailed off.

She perplexingly got a shake of the head in response.

“Fate,” Renee smiled. “I am a believer.” 

It was a different smile than before. This one looked lighter and brighter, like it had unlocked new depths in Renee’s previously shielded eyes. They stared at each other, eyes glinting like they were giddy and drunk on the absurdity of the universe. The bathroom door swung open, and the rest of the world came back in with a hum of machines and chatter. A middle-aged woman hesitated at the door for a second, eyes flicking between them and the makeup array on the counter, then kept walking into a stall. They made eye contact again, and Allison wanted to giggle. The smell of food that had briefly wafted in reminded them of their hunger, so Allison hopped off the counter, tossing Renee a candied smile.

She left her inside with some cash and an order, then took everything back out to the car. Her boots thudded on the ground firmly as she strode to the car, lifting a hand to shield her eyes. The sun was peeking out over the horizon now, gilding edges and waking the world up. Beyond the store and the car park, it was just a long road and some fields and trees. The mornings before on Allison's panic-induced solo-trip had been insignificant, passing by without fanfare, but as she looked around now, it looked different. She breathed in the air, grateful again for the flickering signs of life inside herself. Allison had rarely felt this way – maybe a few times, like when she had finally unpacked and sat in her dorm for the first time knowing it was hers now, knowing her family was finally far away, or like when she had finally kissed Seth. The ground felt firm beneath her feet this time, and it felt good. She let out a breath of relief and smiled up at the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I'll write more about this, but their story doesn't end so simply. They go back to Palmetto together, but Renee struggles to knock on her mother's door. Allison threatens (kindly) to do it herself. Eventually things are all right. 
> 
> It's funny to imagine them as a famous couple, all because Allison was disowned by her rich, asshole parents, and Renee is an ex-gangster, reformed girl who ran away and turned up half-dead at her mom's door a year later.
> 
> Maybe this will be worth making a part 2 for, haha. Thanks for reading, and sorry for any mistakes!


End file.
